About Me

Let me start by saying I am NOT and will never claim to be an expert on anything. However, I do know a little about a lot of things...like being a daughter, a nurse, a referee, a teacher, a coach, a therapist, a cook, a housekeeper, a judge, a jury, a landscaper, a student, a wife, and most importantly...a mother.
Now for some things I know ABSOLUTELY NOTHING about...bear hunting, skydiving, Naples, history, symbolism, engines, HTML, which came first...the chicken or the egg, etc....
Now, some things I am trying to learn a lot about...spirituality, darwinism, all faiths, history, meditation, nursing, maybe med school, and which came first the chicken or the egg.
I'm a SAHM who is never at home. My life is busy and crazy and I wouldn't change a minute of it!

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Tuesday, July 26, 2011

It’s the end of The One Who Knows Everything’s summer. He know a lot, but, he didn’t know that it’s not a good idea to climb the tallest skate ramp, and attempt to skate down it, when you’re not an amateur or professional skateboarder. Especially so, when you’re hardly considered a skateboarder of any kind, or at all.

He broke his arm (a buckle fracture on the distal end of his right radius, about an inch from the epiphyseal plate…to be exact and use my big, fancy nursing terms!), a cast was placed, and his fun in the water has come to an end.

His broken arm did not, however, put an end to his monkeying around, as evidenced by this little gem…

Not the sharpest tool in the shed…

It’s actually amazing that this is the first broken arm in our household!

Monday, July 11, 2011

Well, I did have Crown Royal for the first time the other day, and was subsequently more intoxicated than I’ve ever been in my life, but, I’m not talking about me.

I’m talking about the kiddos. FirstS are few and seriously far between these days. Haven’t been hit with anything new in a long while.

Until today.

It caught my eye in my peripheral vision of The One Who Knows Everything’s profile as we watched TV this afternoon. I grabbed his chin, squished his cheeks and pulled his face to me for closer inspection.

“Is that a zit?” I said.

His brother and sister were no where within earshot, but, I could still see a bit of embarrassment on his face.

“NO!” he shouted as he pulled his face away from me and covered the pimple on his chin with one hand, as his face reddened.

“YES IT IS!” I shouted back, and said excitedly, “Let me see it. Awwww…you’re growing up, Dude. I need to call Dad. Oooh…let me take a picture of it and send it to Dad.”

With that request, he jumped up off the couch and ran from me, swinging his arms with no regard for his brother, who happened to walk into the room at just the wrong time, and who happened to get knocked to the floor. The One Who Gets Away With Murder fell to the floor in a dramatic heap, wailing, as the bigger one slammed the bathroom door.

This was enough activity to pique the girl’s curiosity, and she came out of her room and nonchalantly said, “What is going on?”

I quickly comforted Jack and coaxed Avery out of the bathroom. I sat him down on the couch, and tried to explain, “You’re growing up, kid. This is the first of many zits you’ll have. And I’m your mother, and you’re sorely mistaken if you think that between now and the time that you’ve navigated safely through your teens, that I won’t tease you once, twice, or two thousand times. That’s just how I am. Besides, it’s just a zit.”

Having calmed himself down and having just heard the tail end of my monologue, Jack added insult to injury (his brother’s, not his own), busting into the room, yelling, “I KNEW IT! I KNEW IT WAS A ZIT. I KNEW IT. I TOLD HIM LAST NIGHT HE HAD A ZIT, AND…AND…HE KEPT SAYING, ‘No…it’s just a blemish,’ OR WHATEVER. BUT, I KNEW IT. AVERY HAS A ZI-IT, AVERY HAS A ZI-IT. AVERY HAS A ZI-,” but, he was interrupted by a hard shove, and Jack hit the ground before he could finish the word zit!

Ave stormed off again, slammed another door, and the little one was in another dramatic heap on the floor. Wailing. Again.

Just as nonchalantly, never letting the chaos of our house get under her skin, Lily said, “Really? This is all about a zit?”

I tried to calm Avery down, apologizing for teasing him, but, encouraging him to grow some thicker skin rather quick like. I warned him of the numerous zits he’d have and the hair that would begin to emerge soon, and all the fun stuff that puberty would bring, and that a little ole zit and his mother’s excitement over it, was nothing to get upset about.

I promised to be more sensitive to his feelings, he promised to stop slamming doors, and use his words, instead, and Jack promised to punch Avery in the face if was shoved to the ground one more time.

It was my prepubescent boy’s first zit. Although he wouldn’t let me take a picture of it, it looked exactly like this…

Friday, July 8, 2011

And I’m eagerly awaiting the release of it’s app for Droid, much like a crackhead might wait for a text back from his pusher. Not that I know what a crackhead feels like, per se…but, you know. What I imagine he might feel like.

Tuesday, July 5, 2011

In spite of my deep longing to be an Austinite, to be a part of the the downtown, city life, I have to acknowledge my love for our sleepy little village on the outskirts of the suburbs.

I especially love it on weekends like this one.

When we visited a nearby, family run firework stand/used car lot/family farm. It’s run by a good ole boy, his little lady, and their teenaged boys who know everything about every single firework they sell. A knowledge that completely impressed my teenage wannabe boys.

I pass by this little stand/car lot regularly. Sometimes several times a day. That kind of regularly. I love looking at this sculpture that sits near the road, although, I’ve never known what it is, exactly.

It looks to be old, and maybe like it’s missing some spokes, but, it’s always piqued my interest. During the school year, we pass by this place daily taking the kids to and from practices, and as we passed by all those evenings the sculpture never stood out.

However, this week, I guess I passed by it for the first time, in the evening, in the months of late June, early July. And this week, I finally realized what the thing actually was…

It’s a metal and fiber-optic sculpture of a firework, exploding in the sky. I talked to the owner when I asked if I could take pictures, and she commented, “You should’ve seen it when we first got it…it was gorgeous. The wind’s done a number on it. It’s seen better days, but we’re proud of it.”

Picnic tables lined the property and locals sat and chatted with each other and with the owners. Kids popped firecrackers on a slab of cement…

the smell of sulfur filled the air, the sky was illuminated with flashes of color…